Dear Diary
by illyria-light
Summary: I live at 5 Privet Dr., Surrey. My entire neighborhood is normal. Normal and boring. Except for two people: Mrs. Figg, this old lady who lives with lots of cats and smells like them all the time, and Harry Potter."
1. January 27

Dear Diary,

I'm so happy that I got you for my birthday. I don't really have that many friends, so you're the only thing I can confide to. I should tell you a little about my self first. My name is Rosalind Brady, but you can call me Rosy. I have dark brown hair and grey eyes and I just turned ten. I have a sister, Audry. She's eight. I also have a mother and a father.

I live at 5 Privit Dr. Surrey. My entire neighborhood is normal. Normal and boring. Except for two people: Mrs. Figg, this old lady who lives with lots of cats and smells like them all the time, and Harry Potter. Harry is the same age as me, but I think his birthday is in the summer, while mine is today, January 27, so he's half a year older than me. He has black hair and these bright green eyes that seem almost...I don't know, magical.

If you hadn't guessed by now, I like Harry. He's like me in a way. Neither of us have friends. But the reason he doesn't have any is because his cousin Dudley beats up anyone who talks to him. I, on the other hand, have no friends because I rarely talk to anyone by my own free will. I just sit and write or read. I used to have a friend. Her name was Nerissa, but she moved away last year. I'm not sure where because she stopped speaking to me when she found out she was moving.

Anyways, back to Harry. He lives with his uncle and aunt and cousin, whom I've mentioned above. None of them like him very much, I think. He is always wearing Dudley's hand me downs which isn't very nice because Dudley is at least twice Harry's size. Plus, Harry lives in the cupboard under the stairs, while Dudley gets both rooms upstairs. It's not fair to him. I at least get my own room. I don't even have to share with Audry, but she likes coming in here and going through my things. I should have to hide you well.

Do you want to know how I know all this about Harry? Well, it's actually a very funny story. You see, I was sitting in the corner of the library, reading, and all of a sudden a boy darts under my table. Of course you know that this was Harry, but at the time I didn't know who it was at all. Then Dudley came marching through the room and walked right up to me. "You see a skinny boy with ugly hair and nerdy glasses?" he spit out. I assumed that this was a description of the boy under the table and realized why the boy was hiding, so I shook my head no. Dudley and his friend, I'm not sure his name, shrugged their shoulders and walked out to search for Harry elsewhere.

Then I noticed that the boy was still under the table, so I leaned down tell him that the boys had gone and my eyes were met with the two magical green orbs that I had described earlier. I told him they had left, but Harry wouldn't get out from under the table. So I just slid from my chair and sat down next to him. We spent the rest of the day sitting underneath that table, talking. We even ended up skipping the rest of class that day, but I didn't mind. I don't think he did either. It was the first and only time in my life that I had been that close to a boy for that long.

Well, I have to go now. Mum made a cake for my birthday and I finally get to have some!


	2. January 30

Dear Diary,

It's me again...but you probably already guessed that. Well, it's Monday. For the most part I never like Mondays except for one thing: poetry. Every Monday our class gets into groups and we have a new poem that we need to learn. I know this sounds nerdy, but there is one other reason I love these poetry groups: Harry and I always get paired up because everyone else always has friends they join. Even Dudley. Oh, I found out his friend's name...its Piers Polky or something like that.

Anyways, the poem we have to recite is so pretty. I'm going to copy it in here so I can remember to memorize it.

_Nature's first green is gold,   
Her hardest hue to hold.   
Her early leaf's a flower;   
But only so an hour.   
Then leaf subsides to leaf.   
So Eden sank to grief,   
So dawn goes down to day.   
Nothing gold can stay._

Isn't that beautiful? Harry and I have to practice together, but we can only do it at school because his horrible aunt and uncle don't let him go anywhere. You know, I can see into his kitchenfrom my living room. I once watch the Dursleys and Harry eating dinner. They barely give him anything. It's so sad.

Oh, I almost forgot to tell you. I had a dream last night. I was flying through the air and it was nighttime, so it was very cold. Then suddenly I feel warm, and I look behind be and Harry is holding me. Then I look down and see how far up we are and I get scared. But then he tells me that everything is going to be alright. And then the sky fills with glittering gold stars, and that's when I wake up. It was such a wonderful dream although, I'm not sure how we were flying...I think we were sitting on something. But it was just a dream, so I should get back to my homework now...

All right, I'm back. I just finished my math homework. I hate multiplication. I'm so sorry it took me so long, but not only am I not very good at it, but I was doing it in the living room and I saw Harry and I couldn't take my eyes off him. He was getting his hair cut by his aunt, Petunia. And from the looks of it, it was going horribly. I'm guessing Harry didn't want his hair cut because he was squirming around in the chair. Petunia was choppi9ng his hair off and hid silky locks fell to the floor in piles. That was the second best thing about him, after his eyes of course.

I watched and I watched until Harry looked like my cousin Muriel: balding and miserable. I felt like crying, but then I thought to myself "_Rosy, why should you be crying over hair? It will eventually grow back. And beside you still like him, don't you?"_ That was when I realized that I did still like him, and that hair meant nothing to me...as long as he never got colored contacts.

I need to go to bed now. It's already 10:00. Good night.


	3. February 2

Dear Diary,

I still feel horrible. I spent all yesterday in bed. Gods, I hate Dudley Dursley! I blame him for my suffering because, of course, everyone must have someone to blame for everything. Most people choose God or their parents…but I choose the pig-look alike next door.

Audry chooses me. She blames me for everything. Why? Because when little angelic Audry says something, it just has to be true. My parents always believer her, even when she's down-right lying.

Like today, she came home from school and complained to Mum that I was purposely sneezing on her to make her sick, which was, of course, not true. She just said that because I had chastised her for failing her spelling test and told her that I was telling Mum. So she ran ahead of me and spat out her lie before I could tell the truth.

Now, I'm grounded for a thing I didn't do. It's bad enough not going to school, but being forced to stay in my room for two days with nothing but a head cold for company is just plain mean.

Audry is another person who is going on my blame list. Her and Dudley.

There was one good thing about this week though. Harry was given the task of giving me my homework everyday that I am absent. Yesterday, he came over and we talked for almost an hour until his aunt Petunia marched over and dragged him away by the collar. She's a horrible woman and she looks like a horse that just ate a lemon.

I'm still waiting for Harry to bring today's homewo… Oh, there's the door. It's probably him! I'll tell you about this part later…

_Later that night…_

I was right. It was Harry at the door with my homework: math, a science report I have to start, and grammar. But that's not the most interesting part of the visit.

Harry came over with the homework and it was pouring rain, so my Mum decided to invite him in for some hot cocoa before he went back home, which he obviously accepted. Who would _want_ to go back to his house of their own will? Not me, that's for certain.

We sat in the kitchen and he told me what I had missed in school. (Dudley fell into a mud puddle and was sent home early) I love talking to him. Harry is the only person I know that I can really converse with, without having to worry about manners or hurt feelings.

Of course I would never say anything that I thought would hurt Harry's feelings. I couldn't have found anything bad even if I tried…he's just too nice.

But sadly, Harry finished his cocoa and left because he didn't want to be dragged home and chastised by his aunt again. Once again, I don't blame him.

So now I sit here, writing in you, dear diary, thinking of nothing else but the boy next door. It seems like a Victorian novel. My life is far from it, of course, but it does run parallel to the genre in many ways: It's raining constantly; I have an unrequited love and I have sworn enemies (Dudley and Audry).

Maybe I should write a book about my life. Actually, now that I think about it, this diary is a book about my life. It's just not written in a way that would have other people reading. Of course, no one will read this diary till long after I am dead; I shall make sure of that. I write my most personal and intimate secrets in this book and I have no plans of making them public any time soon.

But what intimate secrets would a girl of ten have anyways? Not much, but you probably know that already, don't you? With the exception of my feelings for Harry and my hatred of my sister and Dudley, there's really not much in here that would constitute as a big secret. I guess ten year olds in general shouldn't have too many big secrets anyways. I'll have to wait till I'm eleven for the really big ones.

More tomorrow…I have homework to do.


	4. February 12

Feb. 12

Dear Diary,

Not much has happened. For some reason Harry seems to be ignoring me. I honestly don't know why. Maybe it has to do with Dudley. I had been talking with Harry a lot, and Dudley hates it when people talk to him. He calls Harry a freak, and once again, I have no idea why.

We've been doing our poetry together for class, which is always the best part of my week. It's the only time, I can talk to Harry uninterrupted and not have Dudley and his friends get mad. These study sessions are the only reason I know so much about Harry and life. How he has to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs, how Dudley always beats him up for no reason, how he wishes his parents were still alive…

It really makes me feel better about having an annoying and nosy sister and bossy, unforgiving parents. Sometimes I hate them so much, I wish they were dead, but then I think of what I'd feel if they actually did die and I was left alone, and I love them all over again. I know I'm probably crazy to just sit in my room, telling stupid things to an inanimate object, but it makes me feel better.

I tell Harry things as well. My annoying, bratty sister, how my parents always take her side, how books are the only things I can rely on. You want to know what he said when I told him that? He said that I could on _him_. Isn't that nice?

I really do like him…I sometimes I wonder if he could like me back. But then I look at myself in the mirror and see the long, straggly, dark hair and the dull grey eyes, and realize that no one could ever like me. I'm going to end up like that old, Mrs. Figg: alone and unwanted; my only company a bunch of cats. I shudder when I think of that woman. There are so many more productive things to do with her life than keep the feline community fed and watered.

Since Harry has decided to ignore me, I've retreated, once again, into books. I began reading a book on magic I had recently found in my father's study. It's fascinating, really. There are things in that book that I would have never thought about in my wildest dreams. Dragons, unicorns, witches and wizards…I seem to be drawn to all things magical for some strange reason.

I'm being summoned. What has Audry blamed me for now, I wonder?

…all right I'm back, but only for a minute or so. I wasn't in trouble. Apparently my parents, Audry and I have been invited to dinner with the Dursley's. I don't mind if Harry is going to be there, but somehow I don't believe he will be. I'm to wear my best dress no matter. I hate it. Blue and frilly, it makes me look like an over stuffed cupcake. At least mine isn't pink like Audry's. She complained once and my mother gave her astern talking to on how lucky she is to have such a pretty dress – a dress that goes with her complexion. It was so hard to keep from laughing. I shall talk to you when I return, if it isn't too late. Otherwise, until another day…


	5. February 13

Feb. 13

Dear Diary,

I still can't breathe through my nose because of my recent illness, but to be able to learn again instead of just rotting away alone in my bedroom, is completely worth it. Dudley beat up Harry again. It was upsetting. They don't even give him a chance. That ratty friend of his – I still can't remember his name – holds his hands behind his back while Dudley uses him as a punching bag. Poor Harry ended up with a swollen cheek and a very sore stomach.

I waited until that ugly brood left to hit others before trying to help. Harry pushed me away…I don't know why, but it upset me more than watching him turn into a tenderized steak. He angrily told me to leave him alone, and that he didn't need help from a girl. I'm so confused. I thought we were friends. I thought he liked me. I had hoped his recent distance from me would be resolved with my helping him, bit I was wrong. I hate being wrong.

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day. Even though Harry seems to hate me now, I still plan on giving him a valentine. I doubt I will receive any, but somehow every year, my heart is hopeful. And every year my hopes are dashed when my box remains empty. I had been hoping this year would be different, but Harry's attitude towards me has me rethinking my earlier thoughts, if that makes any sense whatsoever.

I think I should describe my valentine. It's red (I thought he'd like it better than pink) and it's shaped like a heart. I trimmed it in lace from my mother's craft drawer and wrote "Happy Valentine's Day" in the middle in black marker. I'm quite surprised at myself. I was never really fond of arts and crafts, but I seem to be reasonably good at it. Before Harry's mood change towards me, I had planned on writing "Will you be my valentine?" but I reconsidered that choice. At this point, I doubt he even likes me, let alone _likes me_ likes me. Does that make any sense? I hope so because I'm not sure how to put it any other way. I may be smart, but I am nowhere near worldly enough to fathom the intricate pattern of love. (I had to look up both fathom and intricate in the dictionary; I hear my parents use them all the time and thought they might me useful…)

On a different note, I haven't been able to sleep for the past few nights because something keeps scratching inside the walls. I think it's a mouse, but you can never be too sure about these things. I told Audry about the noise and she says she hears it too. At least I'm not alone in this. Audry isn't always such a git.

Oh, I almost forgot about dinner with the Dursley's. It wasn't very exciting any ways. Harry wasn't there. I assumed his horrible family locked him his cupboard for the night. The dinner was all right. Mr. Dursley talk about his drill company for a long time before telling jokes that weren't remotely funny. I didn't laugh and my mother kicked me in the shin. Apparently it's not polite to not laugh at a joke, even if it isn't funny in the least.

Afterwards we all went into the lounge where all the grown ups drank odd smelling drinks. My father and Mr. Dursley went out to the garage to look at their new car, while my mother and Mrs. Dursley gossiped about the neighbors. Dudley, Audry and I sat nearby and did nothing. Well, Audry began making shadow puppets on the wall and Dudley eventually turned on the television and ignored us completely. I got so bored that I asked to go to the bathroom three different times. Only the third needs to be written about because that time I didn't go to the loo, I went to talk to Harry. I found his cupboard easily – right under the stairs – but I couldn't stay long. The adults were already probably assuming I have a bladder infection.

I knocked quietly on the door. No one answered. I knocked again, afraid I had gotten the wrong cupboard, but this time there was an answer.

"I'm not making any noise!" I was slightly confused, until I realized that he probably thought it was his aunt or uncle coming there to harass him on a trivial matter.

"It's Rosy." I replied back. There was silence for a second and then,

"What do you want?"

"I wanted to make sure you were all right." He may have been treating me like I was diseased, but I still care for him. There was more silence.

"I'm fine." The tone wasn't mean, which made me sigh in relief, but it still sounded a little awkward. I was just about to ask if he was sure when he interjected.

"You'd better go…I don't want you getting in trouble." I smiled. He wasn't mad at me! At least I think he wasn't mad at me. Maybe it just sounded like he wasn't because the door was muffling his voice or something to that nature. I'm still more than confused. I pulled myself together long enough to whisper "Good night, Harry," through the wood door before rushing back to the lounge. I don't even know if he heard me.

When I returned, everyone was looking at me funny. Well, Audry was. Dudley was too busy watching television and the adults were still ignoring the children. Apparently, I had been away for quite a while. I had sat down without speaking to anyone.

I woke up the next morning – which was Saturday, so I could sleep in – having no idea how I had gotten home. According to my Mum, both Audry and I had fallen asleep at the Dursley's and Dad and Mr. Dursley carried us home. Dad carried me, luckily. I really didn't want that walrus of a man touching me. It gives me the shivers just thinking about it.

Nothing happened today. I slept in, finished my homework and the valentine I'm going to give Harry. I taunted Audry a bit about her being carried home by Mr. Dursley, but hat got old quite quick. I helped Mum do some of the housework and then took a long stroll around the neighborhood. It amazes me how many people could live in such a small area and still be exactly the same. Same houses with the same manicured lawns, same fake smiles upon the same pasty faces. Like I stated earlier in this diary, everyone here is boring and normal except for Mrs. Figg and Harry. Maybe I should put myself in this category, but I'm afraid that even if I am a little odd, I don't necessarily stick out. I should ponder this for a while…

I'll tell you how my valentine goes over tomorrow. Until then…good night.


End file.
